


A haunting weekend

by WitchesBrew



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bad Behaviour, Brother Feud, Dungeon, Family, Family Drama, M/M, Poor Theon, Punishment, Ramsay is his own warning, Thramsay - Freeform, Vacation, Weekend Getaway, ghost story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6715315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchesBrew/pseuds/WitchesBrew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domeric wishes for the family to spend more time together, as well as for his father and brother to have some cultural inputs for once. He has therefore arranged for the entire family to stay a full weekend at an old castle in the countryside. Guess who’s ecstatic and who’s not. ;)</p><p>(I’ve been dying to do this story for the last two months, as the scenario has been haunting my mind every damn awaken minute. Work and other appointments have however restrained me from using that much time on it, as I had originally planned. Now I’m at a point where I just need to get it out, before it starts to crumble in my mind and slide through my fingers. I’ve tried my best with the time available to me at the moment, but I still apologize in advance for any weird choice of words or bad grammar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains illustrations. Please let me know if any of them doesn't show.
> 
> 2 illustrations is added to this first chapter.

As a rule weekends meant a slightly calmer Ramsay, as he for a couple of days would be in full control of Theon’s doings, not risking him being messed up by Jon’s stupid, good-hearted ideas. However, this weekend was very different, as Domeric had invited the entire family on a trip to the countryside. He wished for them to spend more time together as well as for his father and brother to have a cultural experience for once. So he had arranged with some acquaintances from the university, that while they vacationed elsewhere, the Bolton's could stay a weekend at their great manor house, which had originally functioned as a castle in the Middle Ages.

Naturally, Ramsay wasn’t up for the idea and did his best to throw any imaginable accusations or excuses at his father for him and Theon to be exempted to go. Domeric’s new position as history professor at the country’s finest university had turned him into a self-righteous snob that neither Ramsay nor his father wished to be around, and Ramsay suspected that Roose would never have agreed to this trip, was it not for the favorable opportunity of winning cheap points with Walda, and teach his youngest son a lesson at the same time.

Theon, however, was beside himself. The prospect of a weekend getaway and at a real castle of all places made him ecstatic to a degree that slightly concerned Roose. As for Ramsay, Theon’s eagerness upset him even more than the fact, that he was forced to spend an entire weekend with his unbearable brother. Ramsay knew perfectly well that this hatred was equally returned and thereby certain that Domeric only insisted having him join the trip to annoy him as well as getting a chance to help Theon. In fact Domeric had indeed exceeded his vengeful plans by sending Theon books on the history of the castle and aristocratic culture of the early modern period. Roose had allowed, if not ordered, him to read the books, most of all to shut him up when he was not in school. Theon inhaled the informations as if he lived off of it and had even been allowed to stay up later than Ramsay on certain school nights, as it had proven harder to drag him away from the books in the evening, than getting him out of bed the following morning.

Ramsay had finally, by accident of course, dropped the books into the fireplace. It earned him a spanking right after the incident, as well as an even rougher one the morning they took off. The uncomfortable seats on the plane didn’t exactly help him forget his misdeed and not wanting anyone to know of his pain, Ramsay hid himself behind his sunglasses, music on full blast in his ears. Playing some mindless game on his phone, he tried his best to ignore the ecstatic Theon dancing in the seat next to him. Ramsay made sure to buckle his seatbelt extra tightly, otherwise Theon would probably be running around all over the plane from utter excitement.

Wanting to ease the tension as well as make Theon shut up, Walda eventually offered him her chocolate emergency ration; an XL bag of M and M’s. Clearly annoyed, Ramsay agreed for him to have it. Keen on upholding his personal rule of not letting Theon have any sugar, Ramsay found another use for the small chocolates though. So he ordered Theon to sort them by color, only allowing him to eat a piece if he did it quick enough. As Theon should have known, winning this game turned out harder than expected. He did better for each round, but Ramsay would explain away his success by claiming Theon was trying to cheat, as he once and again dropped a chocolate or two. Finally, as Theon was close to tears from the injustice, Ramsay allowed him three pieces.

The new game kept Ramsay’s attention off his burning behind, thereby making the flight more pleasant for most of them. However, the light mood didn’t last as they arrived at the castle. What Ramsay half expected to be an old, ruinous fortress, turned out to be a beautiful, extravagant manor, surrounded by endless flowery fields, causing Theon to bounce in his seat. Even the cold and damp weather couldn’t slightly spoil the impressive and drawing feeling of this place, and Ramsay had to grab Theon’s arm to keep him from dashing out through the windshield. Even worse, as Domeric appeared in the richly ornamented doorway and descended the huge stone staircase to welcome them, he looked as good and charming as ever, and his liveliness seemed to outdo the brilliance of the estate as he greeted Walda and his father with hugs and sweet-talk. However, as Domeric turned towards his brother, arms still out in a welcoming greeting-pose, his joyous expression immediately faded. A mute moment of uncertainty, frustration and downright hate went by until Domeric retrieved his happy-host face and turned around to hug Theon, who was clearly struggling not to jump in between the two of them to greet his new beloved idol.

“Let’s go inside where it’s a warmer. I’ll show you to your rooms, don’t mind the luggage, that’ll be taken care of. Follow me. I hope you all had a pleasant flight?” The question was meant for everyone, except for Ramsay, whom Domeric clearly already had given up on. Luckily Roose grabbed the chance to have a nice talk with one of his sons for once and so they continued chatting as the five of them passed through long corridors and climbed beautiful staircases. Theon was close to stumble over his own feet more than once in his eagerness to perceive every little detail of the castle.

His eyes grew even wider as Domeric unlocked a door at the far end of a third floor corridor to reveal an immense bedroom, announcing that this was where Ramsay and Theon would be sleeping for the weekend. Bright, patterned tapestries adorned the walls, only split by slim but towering windows stretching from floor to ceiling 13 feet above them. Domeric had deliberately chosen a room with as few items of value as possible, yet still enough beautiful interior for Theon to have a nice experience. And Theon was indeed impressed. He was already wandering about the room as if spellbound, sliding his fingers across the smooth bed linen, burying his face in the blue velvet hangings that embraced the four-poster bed, creating a cozy cave of luxury and comfort.

Of course Ramsay didn't share his enthusiasm. With a look that killed his brother’s stupid smile, he coldly declared, "This is a girl’s room".

"It is indeed a lady’s bedroom, yes. I believe the interior is quite similar to how it appeared when young Lady Harington stayed here in the late 18th century. I thought Theon would like it." Domeric send a warm smile at Theon, who had just noticed the huge painting on the ceiling, causing him to freeze in a foolish posture, his neck bent backwards, staring open-mouthed at the colorful religious scenes played out above him, his hands still clenching the soft bed hangings.

Ramsay’s mocking response was caught in his throat as his father interrupted them. “It’s very fine, Domeric. Ramsay will take it with no further complaints,” Roose made an impatient gesture for his eldest son to move on and show them to his and Walda’s room.

Theon wasn’t aware of anything around him until Ramsay slapped his gaze away from the ceiling. An apology immediately followed as Theon quickly turned his eyes at Ramsay instead, however he was already on his way out the door. Theon took a last glance at the lovely room before he obediently followed. Despite his burning cheek he couldn’t help but smile. Not only from the prospect of sleeping in such a beautiful room, but also the opportunity to finally sleep with Ramsay again. At home, he had recently spend most nights in the basement, since he couldn't seem to keep himself from acting stupid.

After observing Theon’s reaction to the bedroom, Ramsay should have known that the rest of the day would turn out to be a living Hell. After helping Roose and Walda to a bigger, more impressive bedroom, truly fit for any lord, Domeric suggested for a quick tour around the castle. Ramsay was quick to turn down the idea, but just as fast to change his mind as Roose instead offered him to stay back at his room alone, while Theon joined them.

However, Ramsay would soon come to regret not going through with his previous ideas of breaking Theon’s leg by accident to keep him home. As soon as Domeric opened his mouth to tell which noble families had resided at the castle at certain periods, as well as the different reconstructions the castle had undergone, Ramsay lost all control over Theon. The energy of the castle as well as Domeric’s boring lectures on royal and aristocratic culture made Theon dance enthusiastically alongside Domeric and jabber to an extent Ramsay had not yet experienced. Hadn't he been there to drag him back every 10 feet, he was certain Theon would actually climb up his taller brother and wrap himself around his neck, just to be closer to that stupid, sweet-talking face.

For a short while it turned for the better, as Theon got so excited that he almost crashed an antique sculpture, because he wanted to look closer at it. As Domeric and Roose jumped to save the sculpture, Ramsay yanked Theon back by the hood on his shirt, forcing him to stay right beside him by a firm hold at his arm. It only worked for the next couple of rooms though. Theon kept trying to wring himself loose from Ramsay’s grip to get closer to his enchanting brother, and he eventually started whining when Domeric was more than five feet ahead of them.

It caused Ramsay to accidently lock Theon out on The Queen’s Balcony leaving him freezing for nearly 15 minutes, until Domeric finally caught a break from his own narcissism to realize that Theon wasn’t with them anymore. Ramsay was ordered to fetch him and was received by a hurtful backhand from his father, when they returned.

The tour ended at the kitchen, as Walda had asked for the opportunity to help the staff cook dinner. As Roose escorted her into the kitchen to have a quick look at tonight's meal, Domeric turned to Ramsay and Theon with a less confident smile on his face, yet he tried his best.

”So… that’s it. I hope you enjoyed the tour. I guess Theon already knew most of it, from the books I send you?” Theon instantly froze as it dawned on him that Domeric didn’t know what had happened to the books. He felt his body starting to tremble and he only managed to stammer something incomprehensible as response. Luckily, Ramsay rescued him, as he coldly pointed out that Domeric had forgotten to show them the only interesting part of the castle - the dungeons.

Domeric’s lips tightened as he tried to give his brother an indulgent look. ”No I didn’t _forget_. I left that part out, since the entrance to the cellars is outside and what you refer to as the dungeon is unfortunately closed for sight. Besides, most of the space is used for storage as well as the owners’ private wine collection, so there’s really not much of interest for you to see down there anyway.”

Theon immediately looked relieved by the thought of not having to walk around the cold and creepy dungeon, which he had already read about in the books. However, Ramsay surely wasn't accepting that answer.

”I bet you’re just too frightened to go down there. How do you even get by, being such a pussy?”

Domeric frowned as he clearly tried to come up with an answer that would put his immature brother in place. However, his attempt was interrupted as Roose reappeared in the hallway, impatiently clearing his throat. Instead Domeric put on the same polite smile as always, hoping for support by the only person who could truly stand the look of him. ”Anyway, I suggest we withdraw while dinner is getting ready. What do you say to a game of pool, Theon?”

Theon eagerly nodded to response, but as they moved towards the drawing room Ramsay insisted Theon was too stupid to play pool. With a cold, yet slightly amused look, Roose suggested for Ramsay and Domeric to play against each other instead. As with most of their father’s utterances, this wasn't as must a suggestion as it was an order, and so Domeric found the cue sticks and readied the game as Theon and Roose settled in a couch next to the pool table.

As with anything else, Ramsay’s play was rough, and it seemed as if he was just as keen on trying to hurt Domeric with his cue stick when they passed each other, as he was winning the game.

To Ramsay’s annoyance Domeric wasn’t as bad at pool as he had expected, and his older brother was just as keen on winning as he was himself. Theon shrunk for each killing glance and demeaning curse the brothers threw at each other, until he eventually found himself curled up in the corner of the couch, hiding himself behind a fur cushion. And it certainly didn’t ease his tension when Roose joined the choir of verbal slaps. Although, Theon had eventually learned that whenever Walda wasn’t around, Roose did turn a blind eye a lot more often, and since she was currently occupied in the kitchen, it only took a few scoldings over his sons’ behavior, before he gave up and started wandering about the room to take a closer look at the old books covering the walls.

Then Domeric asked if Theon wanted to shoot.

"I just told you, he doesn't play!" Ramsay growled, before Theon could even respond.

Theon quickly shook his head, mumbling something inaudible as he slid further down behind his cushion. However, Roose insisted from the far end of the room and finally Theon rose from the couch, though hesitatingly. As Domeric offered him his pool cue, it was with a smile so warm, Theon thought he was about to melt.

As Ramsay watched Domeric embrace Theon, clenching his trembling hands as he helped him position himself and take aim, he was ready to rape his brother with his pool cue right there on the table. His rage only doubled as their teamwork resulted in a great shot, and Domeric’s following praise and applause caused Theon to do a graceless victory dance. Theon immediately came to a halt when he saw Ramsay’s thunderous expression though. Domeric asked if he wanted to shoot again, but he quickly shook his head and retreated to the couch.

As Domeric was just about to win, Walda appeared in the doorway, announcing that dinner was ready. ”Ok, let’s call it even? You did well.” Lowering his cue stick, Domeric reached out to shake Ramsay’s hand. Ramsay responded with a burning glare as if he hoped to put his brother on fire with a mere look. With a snort he slammed his pool cue into Domeric’s hand instead, before walking towards Theon, who immediately leaped from the couch, still clenching the cushion.

With an enthusiastic smile, almost as annoyingly eager as Domeric’s, Walda wanted to know how the game went. Roose put an arm around her waist and lead her out the door with a kiss to her cheek, as Domeric followed, trying his best to flatter Ramsay’s pool skills. Ramsay didn’t listen though, as he was occupied trying to wrench the fur cushion from Theon.

As soon as the others had left the room, Ramsay slapped Theon so hard he fell back into the couch and leaned over him before he could get back up. ”How dare you laugh at me!?!”

"I-i didn't." Theon stammered confused, only to be slapped again, this time harder.

”Stop lying to me! I clearly heard you giggle!! Just now, before Walda showed up!"

"I’m sorry...!"

”You fucking better be! If you do it again, I swear I’ll pin your lying tongue to the floor!”

Expecting to be hit again, Theon struggled not to cover his face, knowing that it would upset Ramsay even more. However, Ramsay merely turned away and stormed off to catch up with the others. Almost certain that he didn't make a sound, Theon timidly rose from the couch and followed, puzzled. However, he soon forgot all about Ramsay’s threat as well as his burning cheek as he was overcome by the sweet smell of roasted chicken from the dining room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One illustration is added for this second chapter, hopefully it works.

As they sat down by the dining table, Theon was overwhelmed by the interior of the room as much as by the extent of mouth-watering food in front of him. The dining room was covered with breathtaking oil paintings and the elegant candles that Walda had lit in the middle of the table, caused the countless crystal  prisms on the majestic chandelier above them to shine and sparkle.

Theon obediently found his place next to Ramsay and stared at the food in patience. As Domeric offered Theon a bowl of mashed potatoes, Ramsay shoved it away announcing that Theon was on a diet and would only have carrots and peas. Turning bright red, Theon lowered his eyes in embarrassment and disappointment and reached for the tray with vegetables instead. Ramsay reached for the wine bottle, but was cut of by his father who snapped the bottle from him with a reproving look and passed it on to Domeric. ”The two of you will not leave this table until Theon has tasted everything here, as well as emptied his plate. Am I making myself clear?”

Aware that he could easily keep Theon from eating by a mere command, Ramsay was almost up for the challenge. However, he might be stuck with his preaching brother all evening, should he wish to help his father in this fight. Ramsay wouldn’t risk that, so he gave in to his father’s demands.

Glancing up at Ramsay for every tiny pile of food he put onto his plate, Theon carefully tried to please everyone, knowing that both Roose and Ramsay were monitoring what he put on his plate. He decided to grab a few more carrots than he knew was allowed, but less potatoes. As the platter with chicken reached him, his eyes were huge with eagerness as he scanned the tray, trying to spot an allowed, yet larger piece of moist chicken. However, Ramsay grabbed the platter from under his nose and shovelled two pieces of skinny wings onto Theon’s plate, before loading his own.

“So, I never got to ask you about the books I send you, Theon. Did you finish any of them yet?”

Theon’s disappointment from the chicken wings instantly vanished as his stomach turned. He looked around for help, but Roose and Walda were already engaged in their own conversation and Ramsay was too busy stuffing his head to bother. However, Theon did notice a slight smirk on his lips.

Anxiously poking at his food, he finally managed to mutter, trying not to meet Domeric’s overly smiling eyes. ”I did…read most of them…”

”I’m pleased to hear that. In fact, I came across a few other ones I would like you to ... Hey, what’s wrong?”

Trying to hide his tearing eyes, Theon bent further over his meal while Domeric angrily turned at his brother, ”What did you do this time?”

But there was no response. His mouth stuffed with chicken to an extent that he couldn’t speak, Ramsay simply kept staring at the wine bottle at the far end of the table, as if he tried to move it closer by telekinesis.

With a look of angry disgust not suiting his fair face, Domeric demanded an answer. ”Hey! Someone tell me why Theon is crying!”

In a pathetic attempt to ease the situation, Theon mumbling explained that he wasn’t, while trying to blink away the tears. With an irritated sigh, Roose stepped in once again. ”Ramsay threw the books away. He is repenting and did receive a fair punishment for it, so leave it be. If you want to help the situation, you can send Theon some new books.”

”For him to ruin once more? Don’t you think I have anything better to use my money on?? Why can’t you just act normal for once, and let Theon’s items be? Why do you insist on acting like a spoiled brat??”

Ramsay looked at his brother in theatrical surprise and opened his mouth in response, causing him to spit chicken and mashed potatoes all over the table. Domeric stared at his brother in disgust and rose with such force he almost knocked over his chair. He looked like he was ready to leap across the table, but instead he grabbed his cloth napkin and threw it at Ramsay, only he missed.

”SIT DOWN!!”

Roose’s sudden bellow made Domeric leap but Ramsay didn’t move an inch. With a mixed look from frustration as well as embarrassment from his own reaction, Domeric slowly slid back in his chair.

”I apologize…”

”I just told you to leave it be, didn’t I? If you send Theon some new books, I’ll see to it that he gets to keep them this time, end of discussion. Now, calm down and eat your meal. Walda hasn’t yet heard about that new apartment of yours.”

From then it was like the argument had never taken place. Both Domeric and Roose were born experts in keeping up appearances like this, Walda was gradually getting the hang of it. It was like watching a completely different dinner situation, at a normal, happy family’s home and Theon didn’t understand how they could to it. Then there was Ramsay, who would sit in complete silence, concentrating on eating. As much as he needed to control everything, eating did have a special place in his heart and might be the one thing, that could in fact calm and shut him up for a certain period of time.

 

After dinner, the superficial conversation continued in the drawing room. Ramsay was still grumpy over not being allowed any alcohol, and his eyes were now and again locked on his father’s glass of whisky. Theon had found the same fur cushion to hide behind and was trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in his stomach, caused by him eating more than he was used to.

When the conversation started to focus on the castle’s history once more, Ramsay asked Domeric to tell about the castle’s ghosts. A bit too keen from the invitation to share more of his knowledge, and even with Ramsay asking for i, Domeric started a tale, but went silent halfway into a sentence, as he saw Theon’s frightened face, as well as the judging look on his father's.

“Actually, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to tell you those stories… If you really want to know, I’m sure you can find them online for yourself, or I can probably send you a book on it...”.

Feeling slightly defeated by being lured into another of Ramsay’s bad intentions, Domeric rose from the comfortable couch and excused himself to go to the bathroom. As soon as he was out of sight, Roose turned to his youngest son.

“We’re only here for the weekend, Ramsay, I will not have you destroying this chance of our family spending a full weekend together. Walda and I are off to bed now, but I want you to stay here with your brother for at least the next hour. You are family and I’m sick of you two not getting along. Also, I’m sure you can both learn a lot from each other, and Theon really seems to like his company.”  Theon slid further down behind the pillow as Ramsay’s burning eyes met his. ”Neither of you will cause more trouble tonight and when I ask Domeric in the morning, he will tell me that you all had a nice evening. Good night.” Roose helped Walda from the couch and left the room with no further words. 

Ramsay didn’t hide his inner fury very well, for when Domeric returned he clearly knew something was wrong. And as he sat down in the couch across from them, they simply stared at each other in silence. Moments went by, until he finally dared to ask, “You’re not off to bed as well?”                                                                                                            

Ramsay glanced at the watch on the wall, “Not for another 53 minutes." 

Silence again. Hidden behind his cushion, Theon watched the two brothers observing each other. Theon was sure they were having some sort of silently consented staring contest, and was surprised when the first one to remove his eyes was in fact Ramsay, as he drew a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.                                 

“Hey, Ramsay put that out, I already told you not to smoke in here!” 

Ramsay raised an eyebrow, but simply took another drag as they eyed each other.

Clearly uneasy, Domeric started gently stroking one of the fur cushions, trying to even out the hairs. Too tired to fight his brother, he decided on another strategy. “So… How’s school? Dull as always?” When Ramsay didn’t respond to that either, too busy making the perfect smoke ring, he turned to Theon instead. “Theon?” 

Theon looked at his new idol with huge eyes and rose a little behind the cushion. “We.. it’s nice…at the moment we’re….” The rest of the sentence turned into a mumble as Theon felt Ramsay’s freezing eyes on him.

”Go stand in the corner.”

Baffled from that sudden command, as well as the fact that Theon had already risen from the couch, although still clenching the cushion, Domeric thrust forward in his seat. ”What? No! Theon, sit down! Ramsay, what exactly do you think you’re doing? You can’t punish him every time he opens his mouth!”. However, his objection was only met by a distinctive look of ’watch me’. 

Frustrated and defeated, Domeric sat back in the couch, mumbling, mostly to himself, ”A great theorist once said, _’There is no glory in punishing_ , but surely you wouldn’t know anything about that…”

Expecting another battle of silence, Domeric was quite surprised when Ramsay actually spoke. ”And what exactly makes you an expert on glory, brother? All you do is read. Nobody became king from choosing one book over the other. Do me a favour and save your clever words on kings and kin for the day you actually go to a battlefield. Then I might bow for you - before I behead you.” 

”Kings and kin, huh? So you did actually listen for once? I’m flattered.”

”I am doing my very best at shutting out your pitiful voice, but unfortunately your stupid habits have infected Reek.”

A victorious smile formed on Domeric’s lips. ”Well, I’m terribly sorry you didn’t catch that cold as well. But I am very glad to know that Theon is in fact expanding his knowledge beyond your shallow, savage ways.” 

There was no answer and Domeric thought he might actually have won for once. At least that was until Ramsay continued, ”Didn’t I tell you to go stand in the corner?”. For a second Domeric was confused, thinking the question was for him, as Ramsay’s burning eyes was still upon him. Then Theon started to move beside him, making Domeric aware that Theon hadn’t sat down after Ramsay’s first order. Now he was slowly moving towards the corner of the room, eyes low from embarrassment, shrinking for each step he took.

Domeric sighed and made a resigned gesture, a bit more dramatic than intended. “Fine! Go to bed then... I’ll tell father that we had a good … well, a talk at least…”

With no further comments or hateful looks at his brother, Ramsay snapped his fingers at Theon and moved towards the hallway. Theon hurried after him and tried his best not to meet Domeric’s eyes, as he passed by him.

 

Theon followed Ramsay down the hall in silence, until instead of walking up the stairs, Ramsay moved towards the main entrance. Theon opened his mouth but shut it again, certain that it wouldn’t change whatever Ramsay's intentions was, if he pointed out that they were going the wrong way.

Outside it was raining. Only lightly, but the wind was freezing and made Theon shiver.

Ramsay continued along the castle wall, looking closely at every doorway or window they passed by. As the immense wall was split by a broad passageway leading to an inner yard, Ramsay finally found what he was looking for. His concentrated look cracked into an unsettling smirk as he descended a few steps to the cellar entrance on the right side of the passage wall. To Theon’s surprise, the low wooden door opened with a grim squeaking sound but no further difficulties. He hesitated on top of the stairs, until Ramsay grabbed a hold of his shirt and dragged him down with him.

To Theon’s relief the first rooms they entered were at least illuminated. As Domeric had already told them, the cellars held the owners’ wine collection and it was a majestic one to say the least. Each of the chilled stone rooms was loaded with bottles from floor to ceiling, neatly placed in racks made for the purpose. In a large room at the far end, the wine was still stored in large barrels, some of them dating back to the early 1700’s.

Ramsay released Theon so that he could check the goodies surrounding him. Theon wrung his hands as Ramsay grabbed an undoubtedly old bottle and tried to read the faded label. It clearly wasn’t from this nor the previous century, and Theon begged in silence for him to put the it back.

He did, but only to examine a large number of younger wines, until he finally found one that satisfied him, announcing he would bring it back to their bedroom. Theon objected, but Ramsay had already moved on further down the low passageway, to a much less lit part of the cellar. Grabbing his phone to use as light source, Ramsay told Theon to shut up and follow, as he disappeared around a corner. A victorious laugh echoed through the cellar and before Theon caught up with Ramsay, he already knew what he had found. The dungeon.

With his lighter, Ramsay lit an old torch he had found and carefully placed it in a holder on the wall. The light from the torch eased Theon’s tension a bit, but he couldn’t help trembling as he observed Ramsay walk around the cold and damp dungeon like a child in a candy store. He had put down the bottle and was now examining the thick chains attached to the walls, a stock with rusty hinges and a large wooden bench that Theon was quite sure hadn’t been used for resting.

Ramsay called from the other end of the room, where he had found a small cell build into the wall. “Get over here Reek, I want to see you behind those bars”.

”I-i think we need to go back... We shouldn’t be down here.”

Ramsay’s smile faded and the juvenile glimpse in his eyes had turned darker than the cell he had just discovered. “Would you rather I chain you to the wall and leave you down here for the night?”                                                                                

Struggling not to start crying, Theon hesitatingly moved towards the cell as Ramsay opened the squeaking cell door for him. The doorway was only five feet high and the cell itself wasn’t much more, so Theon had to duck to get in and keep a crouched position not to bang his head against the damp stone ceiling.

The small cell was even colder than the other rooms and so dark that he couldn’t see a hand in front of him. The light from the torch didn’t make it to the cell, so Ramsay had illuminated the cell with the light from his phone as Theon had crawled inside. But whenever Ramsay changed the light’s direction ever so slightly, an overwhelming darkness wrapped itself around him, causing his heart to race.

Too late it dawned on Theon that Ramsay was not only concerned trying to close the squeaking cell door properly, but also on actually locking him inside by help of a thick chain and a heavy old padlock.

”Pl-please, do you really have to… ?”

”Shut up you pussy. It’s only for show. I need this picture to be perfect.”

Theon felt his eyes beginning to water and clenched the bars harder. As Ramsay succeeded in locking the cell door, he backed away with a triumphant smile, appraising his own masterpiece. After snapping a few pictures of the crying Theon, almost wrapping himself around the bars  in attempt to keep himself as far away from the threatening darkness behind him as possible, Ramsay put his phone back in his pocket and grabbed the bottle of wine from the floor.

”Come to think of it, you do deserve to spend the night down here… You haven’t behaved very well lately, and I think you need time to think it over.”

Theon felt his heart stop. For a few seconds he didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t say anything. Finally he managed a weak stammer, ”P-please… n-no… no! You can’t let me stay here! I-I’m sorry, Ramsay, p-please...!”

”Maybe the ghosts can help you figure out how to behave. I know my brother wouldn’t tell us any stories, but I’m sure you’re aware that every castle has its ghosts… Some of them nicer than others.”

He had to be joking. Theon tried to find any sign on Ramsay’s face that he was only fooling him, but he couldn’t. As Ramsay turned away and disappeared around the corner Theon smashed his fists against the bars and screamed at the top of his lungs.

”NO!! DON’T LEAVE ME!! RAMSAY!! MASTER!! I’LL BE GOOD I SWEAR!! PLEASE!!!!”

Theon begged and pleaded the best he knew, however his babbling assurances of future loyalty and obedience eventually turned into a hurtful sobbing. Then all of a sudden, an almost unhearable sound was heard from the passageway that Ramsay had disappeared through. Theon couldn’t hear what it was, but certain that it was Ramsay, his beloved guardian who had returned for him, he immediately started to cry from relief and shout apologies towards the sound that came only closer.

However, it wasn’t Ramsay who turned up from around the corner. Theon’s voice faded and he stared in mute fright as a legless figure came hovering across the cold boulder floor. The figure had form of a young girl, however something was off. She was pale, not only her skin but her entire appearance, as if the light from the torch was shining through her. Her body and face was thin, and there was something weird about her eyes, which were halfway covered by her long hair.

As she was straight in front of Theon’s cold cell, she suddenly stopped in mid air. Ever so slowly the girl turned her head and looked straight at him, and that’s when Theon’s blood froze. Now that she looked directly at him, he realized what was wrong with her eyes – they weren’t there. He was staring straight into empty, gaping sockets.

As the girl started hovering towards him, Theon threw himself into the far back of the cell and pressed himself against the damp wall. With a heart that would soon explode from his chest, he stared back at the eye- and legless girl who had now stopped just outside the cell door, gazing in at him.

Babbling, crying and clenching the straw on the floor beneath him, he begged to whatever deity that she wouldn’t be able to enter the cell. However, he did just see her start hovering right through the cell bars straight towards him, before the torch went out and everything turned black.

But as he began screaming his lungs out and hammering his fists at the cell wall till they started bleeding, there was no one to hear him. Ramsay had returned to the bedroom, delighted by the thought of having found himself an irreplaceable bottle of wine, which his brother would however have to replace with his own hard earned money.          

Later that night, a patrolling guard passed by that part of the castle, where Theon was locked up underneath, but at that time there was only deathening silence to be heard from the cellars.


End file.
